On Christmas Day, after having consumed too much holiday fare (especially those Lindor truffles, I mean, seriously, have you tried those things? I may need a therapeutic intervention), I got on the old social media machine, ready to do a quick survey of everyone else’s holiday happenings. Of course, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t see anything about Christmas on there, because, you know, “the war on Christmas.”
But it turns out, whoever makes up the braintrust waging this war against Christmas ought to be sued for malpractice. They obviously either don’t know what they’re doing or they’ve just given up because I saw Christmas all over Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. There were so many Santa Clauses and baby Jesuses, I thought I might need insulin. Angels and shepherds shamelessly roaming about cyberspace, as if the great anti-Christmas cabal hadn’t issued shoot-on-sight orders for all things Noel. Candy canes, elves, shiny bows, reindeer—all showing off their holiday spirit . . . with impunity, for crying out loud.
Well, it was sad. I don’t know how else to put it. The war on Christmas looked about as strategically successful as the Maginot Line. I thought, for like the eleventy-thousandth time in 2016, “Liberals can’t do anything right. How can you possibly mess up the war on Christmas? It’s not like Christmas is an insurgency, a sleeper cell full of anonymous moles who skulk about in the middle of the night, dropping a few stray strands of tinsel, humming Away in a Manger as low as possible in a desperate attempt to go unnoticed by the crack anti-Jesus troops. No. Christmas is a huge, stationary target. A six-year-old with an air gun stolen off a drunk carny could hit it at fifty paces.”
So, then I thought, “Look, if you snowflakes aren’t even gonna try . . . ”
I am not even kidding. You turn on the T.V. and you see the Pope’s saying Christmas mass right out in the open, like he doesn’t even care if anybody knows how beholden he is to the 8-pound, 6-ounce, newborn infant Jesus. Change the channel and you can’t get away from Linus, holding his blanket and blatantly quoting the Gospel of Luke. Frosty, Rudolph, Ralphie, Buddy, the little Drummer Boy, George Bailey, Scott Calvin, Kevin McCallister, the Heat Miser, and Burgermeister Meisterburger are everywhere.
Even Reince Priebus got in on the act, rubbing the collective nose of the East Coast intelligentsia, our cultural masters, in the eggnog-scented pile of Christmas shame. On behalf of the Republican Party, he invoked in the RNC Message Celebrating Christmas the character of “a Savior who would offer the promise of salvation to all mankind [sic].” (That Mr. Priebus seemingly went on to correlate the Savior associated with Christmas with another man about to assume political office is problematic on virtually every level is ripe for its own analysis. But that’s another article.)
So, just so I have this straight, the Republican Party—that group of heroic folks so publicly waging a war on “the war on Christmas” on behalf of the rest of us, and which will soon control the Executive and the Legislative branches of government, while simultaneously holding hostage the Judicial branch—publishes a Christmas letter only marginally more interesting than the one your Aunt Doris sends out, detailing the exploits of her diabetic poodle, Genevieve. But publish it they do—and not in somebody’s basement on an old mimeograph, either. They flaunt their love of the yuletide season before God and everybody!
It’s pathetic how badly the godless secularists have botched this war. I would have expected after all this time that the war on Christmas would have gained some ground. But no, the stupid liberals can’t do anything right. A stray Starbucks generic winter design, or coercing the cashier at Target into saying “Happy Holidays!” instead of “Merry Christmas!” doesn’t have a chance of unraveling the perverse hold Christmas has on our society. Christmas isn’t going to unravel itself, guys. You progressives are going to have to get serious about this if you ever hope to rid the world of Santa and the baby Jesus.
I don’t have much hope, though. Liberals are the worst, used to snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. It’s dispiriting.
But on the bright side, at least we’ll have those Lindor truffles to distract us.
Photo credit: Flickr/USDA Gov